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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29775453">Anniversary Experts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/happybeans/pseuds/happybeans'>happybeans</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Daredevil (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Camping, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Vacation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:35:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,442</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29775453</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/happybeans/pseuds/happybeans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt and Foggy go on a trip for their first anniversary. Pure fluff.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>MattFoggy Server Telephone Game Event</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Anniversary Experts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Let’s see…snacks…” Foggy says, and he walks through the narrow aisles of the gas station, Matt following behind. Lowering his voice, he asks, “Noticing anything you like?”</p><p>All Matt can really smell is pork rinds, which he hates. “You decide,” he says and then regrets immediately when Foggy grabs a bag of pork rinds. “I’m not kissing you if you eat that,” he informs him.</p><p>“A risk I’m willing to take,” Foggy says, and the bag crinkles as he holds it under his arm.</p><p>Matt fakes a hurt face. “Ouch,” he says, and Foggy snorts.</p><p>“Here,” he says, grabbing something off the shelf: “bubblegum. Does that solve the problem, your majesty?”</p><p>“…Please get something other than JuicyFruit.”</p><p>The groan Foggy lets out has humor wrapped around it. He puts back the gum and grabs a new pack; then he holds it out for Matt to sniff. “Better?”</p><p>“Much,” Matt says with a pleased smile.</p><p>“Good. Now… I saw some—ooh, mini Reese’s cups? Don’t mind if I do—I saw some fruits up by the front if you wanted to grab some of that.”</p><p>“I think that was just us,” Matt jokes, to which Foggy fakes a laugh.</p><p>“Har-dee-har. You’re getting grapes now how about that? No choices for you.”</p><p>“Grapes sound good.”</p><p>They finish up their shopping and head back on the road, listening to Foggy’s pop playlist. Once they’ve hit the highway, Foggy speaks up, “So, are you gonna ask where we’re going, or did you want to leave it a surprise?”</p><p>“I didn’t realize we got that far ahead,” Matt teases.</p><p>“Who, me? Being spontaneous? It couldn’t be so.”</p><p>Matt laughs. “So? What’s the plan?”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t have one. As a matter of fact… North or South? Pick quickly.”</p><p>“Uhh… North.”</p><p>Foggy jerks the wheel as they presumably change lanes, cheering, “Whee!”</p><p>“But we do have some plan,” Matt points out once the excitement has died down, referencing the metal jingling coming from the trunk of their rented Jeep.</p><p>“Nodding,” Foggy narrates, and he drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “I was thinking we could try camping. For a night or two, anyways. You ever been before?”</p><p>Matt shakes his head.</p><p>Foggy says, “Well, you’re in luck, then: I just so happen to be a camping expert.”</p><p>“Is that so?”</p><p>“Oh, definitely. My dad took me at least twice.”</p><p>“Wow, that’s a lot.”</p><p>“Twice the number of times you’ve been.”</p><p>Matt’s…pretty sure Foggy’s joking. Still, he says, “That’s not how math works.”</p><p>“Is so.”</p><p>Now he knows it’s a joke. “Okay, Foggy, whatever you say,” he says through a yawn.</p><p>“You know, it’s okay to sleep,” Foggy says. “I know you’re tired.”</p><p>The last time Matt slept more than four consecutive hours was probably weeks, maybe a month ago. Foggy must have been keeping track.</p><p>He opens his mouth to argue but says instead, “Maybe just for a minute.”</p><p>Foggy pats his thigh, saying, “Have fun in Dreamland.”</p><p>Matt’s out within minutes.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He wakes up when he feels the car come to a stop. After pulling off his glasses and setting them in his lap, Matt sits up and rubs the sleep crust out of his eyes.</p><p>“Where are we?” he asks. He’s about to ask if they’ve arrived at wherever they’re going, but the car starts moving again as he speaks; they must be at an intersection.</p><p>“We’re in Maine,” Foggy says. “About ten minutes out from a hotel. Figured we’d stop for the night.”</p><p>Matt focuses his senses outside the car for a moment, but he can’t tell how much time has passed. He asks Foggy, who says he’s been out for a few hours. It’s surprising but not too much so. That’s half the reason they’re on this trip, after all: about a year has passed since Matt took up the mask and they took down Fisk, and while things have slowed down in terms of crime in the city, Matt still has his work cut out for him.</p><p>The hotel that they’re staying at is nothing fancy, Foggy tells him in the elevator, but it’s from a pretty well-known chain, so it must be okay, right? Matt doesn’t bother arguing at that.</p><p>Their room is on the third floor and has dilapidated braille on the sign beside it; the dots that are left on the sign read nonsense aside from the final three. The inside of the room seems about as nice as Matt supposes a hotel room can get.</p><p>“What’s it smell like?” Foggy asks, and Matt snorts as he drops his bag on the bed.</p><p>“People.”</p><p>“Heh. Gross.”</p><p>Yeah. Matt taps his way across the room and sets to feeling for a window to open.</p><p>“We could always sleep in the car,” Foggy suggests, and Matt’s hoping he isn’t serious.</p><p>“The room is fine,” Matt tells him. “Now lay down so I can give you a massage.”</p><p>“Romantic,” Foggy says with a laugh as he unzips his bag. “I am fanning myself from how hot and bothered that just made me.”</p><p>Matt rolls his eyes as he starts walking back over, pinching Foggy’s butt as he walks past.</p><p>“Rude,” Foggy remarks. “Unless you’re buying, keep your hands off the merchandise.”</p><p>Matt hums as he starts rooting through his own bag. “How much is the merchandise again?”</p><p>“I roll my eyes at you, good sir. Priceless.”</p><p>“Well, in that case, I guess I’ll pass.”</p><p>Foggy snorts and hip-bumps him. “You didn’t forget your toothbrush, right?”</p><p>“You only asked that twice already. Yes, I have it.”</p><p>“Figured I might as well make it three. Betcha I can brush my teeth cleaner than yours.”</p><p>Matt laughs. “You’re on.”</p><p>Two and a half minutes later…</p><p>“You’re a damn liar,” Matt says fiercely. “I want a second opinion.”</p><p>Foggy laughs, seeing through Matt’s faux-anger. He rubs Matt’s head with one hand while he waves his toothbrush with the other. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mr. Never-Seen-A-Dentist. Mine are simply better. What do you want to do, sniff for plaque?”</p><p>“Maybe,” Matt says, even though that’s honestly the last thing he wants to do. “I just think this whole judging system is biased.”</p><p>“Not my fault you have a coffee addiction. Makes the teeth yellow. Anyway, you’ll always be a winner in my book, honey.”</p><p>Bit over, they leave their toothbrushes on the counter besides the sink and head over to the bed, where Matt makes good on his promise of giving Foggy a massage. With Foggy doing all the driving this trip, it seems like the least he can do.</p><p>They fall asleep not long after, and Matt’s the first to wake in the morning. He hears Foggy rise and leave the room as he showers.</p><p>By the time Foggy gets back, Matt’s dressed and running his fingers through his hair.</p><p>“Good morning,” Foggy calls as he walks through the door, kicking it shut behind him. He comes bearing food: eggs, bacon, sausage, and something sweet. “You probably smelled it, but I raided the complimentary breakfast bar.”</p><p>“Nice work. No drinks?”</p><p>Foggy snorts as he sets the tray down on the bed. “Wow, demanding much? Sorry it wasn’t fit to your standards.”</p><p>Matt opens his mouth, but Foggy pats Matt’s head and continues, “There’s waters in the minifridge. I didn’t want to test my luck; did you pick up on my epic balancing act on the way up?”</p><p>As he brushes away Foggy’s hand, Matt snaps his fingers and says, “Drats, I missed it.”</p><p>This makes Foggy snort again. “Drats,” he says, mocking the word choice. “Haven’t heard that one in a while. Anyway, eat up. We’ve got a long day ahead of us. I’m gonna hop in the shower.”</p><p>“Did you go down there in your pajamas?”</p><p>“It’s a part of the culture.”</p><p>Laughing a breath through his teeth, Matt shakes his head then drags the tray closer. “Enjoy your shower,” he says, and Foggy starts to walk away. “Oh, and Foggy… Happy anniversary.”</p><p>Foggy stops then walks back over. “Aww, you remembered!” he says, and Matt rolls his eyes since there was no universe in which he’d forget. “Just you wait. Once these teeth are brushed, we are going to smooch up a storm.”</p><p>“I’m counting on it.”</p><p>After they’ve finished getting ready, they hit the road once more. Foggy planned out which campsite they’re going to be staying at the night before, and it doesn’t take more than a couple of hours to get there.</p><p>Once they’ve arrived, Matt plops down on a stump while Foggy starts setting up the tent his dad leant them.</p><p>“Don’t worry. I totally know what I’m doing,” Foggy says, and he even sounds like he means it.</p><p>“I believe you,” Matt lies, and he thinks Foggy picks up on it not being the truth.</p><p>“I’m shaking my head at you.”</p><p>“S-M-H,” Matt says, shaking his own head as he faces the ground.</p><p>“I don’t like that you know that,” Foggy says, and he starts thumping the mallet against one of the metal sticks, creating sharp tings of noise that zap through the air.</p><p>Pffting a laugh, Matt says, “What? I’m not allowed to use social media now?”</p><p>“You’re too old for it.”</p><p>Matt scoffs an offended breath, though he can’t help his grin. “You’re older than me, Mr. Nearly-Forty.”</p><p>“You take that back,” Foggy says seriously. “I am pointing my mallet at you.”</p><p>Matt’s eyebrows raise. “Should I feel threatened?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Should you?” He breathes out twice, a staccato of what must be laughter, so Matt throws his hands up, palms out in a defensive gesture.</p><p>“I take it back!” he says quickly. “Please, spare me.”</p><p>Foggy hums, and he stretches up from his position, knees and ankles popping. “Perhaps I could be forgiving. Hand me the poles?”</p><p>Matt kicks out a foot to locate the bag Foggy set down near him before he started this tent-setting adventure. Once he’s found it, he kicks it closer to himself then picks it up. He undoes the tie on the bag and reaches in to pull out the poles.</p><p>“Eugh,” he says when the poles start unravelling. “What?”</p><p>Foggy laughs while Matt inspects the “poles,” which turn out to be thin metal cylinders connected by a string. After folding them back up, he gets up from his tree stump to pass them off to Foggy, who starts messing with them.</p><p>“I want you to know that that looks the same as a snake to me,” Matt says, sensing Foggy’s hands squirming around as he puts them together.</p><p>“What does a snake look like to you?” Foggy asks.</p><p>Matt thinks back to the time he and Foggy went to the Central Park Zoo. It was years ago, and he was somewhat hungover, if he remembers correctly, so he honestly has no clue.</p><p>“Wiggly,” he says vaguely, and it causes Foggy to laugh.</p><p>“Very descriptive,” Foggy says. “And I suppose starfish are very star-like to you.”</p><p>Matt wouldn’t be able to sense the different legs of a starfish without feeling it for himself. “Correct,” he says anyway.</p><p>Foggy walks around to the other end of the tent and does more work over there. “It’s been a while since we went to the zoo, huh?” he says.</p><p>“Since law school,” Matt confirms.</p><p>Foggy hums, and Matt sees what’s coming before he says, “We should change that.”</p><p>“Because the zoo smells great to a normal person.”</p><p>“Are you calling me ‘normal?’”</p><p>Snorting a laugh, Matt says, “Yes.”</p><p>“I take offense to that. I am far from normal.” His tone lacks the harsh edge that would suggest he’s being serious, so Matt can tell he’s not actually offended.</p><p>“I’m sorry, honey,” Matt says, smiling in his direction. “You can be abnormal if you want to be.”</p><p>“Thank you. I appreciate hearing you say that…shnookums.“</p><p>“Darling.”</p><p>“Dearest.”</p><p>“Boo-boo.”</p><p>“Matty-poo.”</p><p>Matt smacks his forehead, and Foggy starts laughing.</p><p>“No to that one?” he asks.</p><p>Matt says, “We better stick to shnookums.”</p><p>Foggy’s laughter crackles through the air, there in one moment then lost to the woods in the next.</p><p>It’s Matt’s first time in a forest bigger than Central Park, and he can’t say he hates the experience. He was afraid things would be too quiet outside the city, but it’s actually…kind of nice. Instead of tires screeching and horns honking, he hears tree leaves fluttering; instead of hot garbage, he smells wet grass. The sun peeks down through the trees in an off-pattern way that keeps him the perfect mix of cool and warm.</p><p>After setting up the tent, they go out for a hike, have lunch at a small diner not far from the site, and get back with plenty of time to struggle building a fire.</p><p>“I’m telling you: you need more kindling.”</p><p>“What even is kindling?!” Foggy demands. “My phone has terrible reception out here.”</p><p>Matt opens his mouth. Then he closes it. He opens it again and says, somewhat unsure, “It’s, like, the twigs, right?”</p><p>“I’m too bi for this,” Foggy says as he throws his hands in the air.</p><p>Matt steps up, deciding it’s probably time to actually be helpful rather than carrying on with Plan A, which was to stand around making snide remarks and backseat fire building.</p><p>“Here, hand me the lighter,” he requests, and he holds his hand out for Foggy to pass it over. He plays with the setup of the sticks for a moment then kisses his two fingertips and holds them up to the sky.</p><p>Foggy scoffs. “As if that’s gonna—”</p><p>Matt shushes him then sets to lighting the fire, blowing on it once Foggy tells him it’s lit at the bottom.</p><p>After a long minute or so of playing around like this, Matt can tell from the heat that they’re at their best attempt yet, and Foggy relays that it actually looks like it might stay lit.</p><p>“That was not the power of God,” Foggy says.</p><p>Matt just smiles smugly.</p><p>With the fire finally taking, they set up their camp chairs and sit down to warm up in the rapidly cooling evening air.</p><p>Foggy insists that it wouldn’t be a true camping trip without roasting hot dogs and s’mores, so that’s what they have for the dinner of their first anniversary. It’s nothing fancy, but neither are they.</p><p>As Foggy leans back in his chair and describes the stars, Matt considers how lucky he is to have all of this, even after everything. He lets out a yawn, and Foggy says:</p><p>“Hey, Matt.”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“Betcha I can fall asleep before you.”</p><p>Matt snorts. “You’re on.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><div class="children module" id="children">
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